Turning Points
by Risa Hijikata
Summary: I can feel a raging anger in my heart as they took Sensei away. Why? Why did they arrest him like a criminal? If someone was to blame, it would be me. Sensei is a kind man; he is our sun and the reason we can live in such indescribable happiness. Please, punish me in his stead and release him. If you don't, then DIE. (Joui war; no pairing; dark theme).
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…**

**Disclaimer: Gorilla + Gorilla = Gintama. Me no Gorilla yo.**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –1**

**Gintoki**

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There was a time when the red dead-fish eyes were alive with the vigour of youth. It was not always so lacking of enthusiasm and cynical of life; was once actually filled to the brim with an unspeakable vitality on what life has to offer.

The positivism had perhaps completely fled him when he was in his teens –though he had not possessed much of it in his childhood either-; perhaps had completely disappeared on an overcast rainy day when he was given a weighty patterned scabbard onto his smooth open palms. He had tightly held on to the sheathed sword with unwavering determination, all for the sake of the people he cherished.

He stood quietly on the battlefield, observing the last cry of pain from men and amantos alike, the sound ringing in his unaccustomed ears. Metals cleave flesh and bones crack with force, the crimson red bathed the enemy and ally to adjoin them into a communion of massacre; the common sense of the world is invalid in this battle for survival.

The raging beast charged towards him in a complete frenzy and he dodged the hiss of death brought by the axe in an instant. He unsheathed the sword not to protect himself but to protect his bushido, his own way of the samurai, though he hesitates to swing the sharp steel, reluctant to inflict injury upon another living being.

Even so, the moment of hesitation passed as he raised the gleaming cold metal with conviction. He had swung the weapon for the sake of one man with whom he had made an important promise.

Confined by the promise and by his own naïve and inexperienced bushido, he wielded the heartless steel to protect them all –to protect the legacy left behind by Shouyo-sensei in the form of anguished students.

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**A/N:** yes, I'm guilty... I have 2 incomplete fic and am doing a new one. Oh well, so what? You guys know me. Procrastination and I are married so there's no way I'll finish anything mwahahahaha...

...

...

Nah, jokes. I'll finish them. I promise. ... Uh, sometime in the future :P


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…**

**Disclaimer: I have glasses but I don't have a pet gorilla. So I don't own Gintama.**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –2**

**Katsura**

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All his life he had tried to be the best and succeeded in being the best. His family status and his brilliance had made him out to be an excellent student and an excellent son in the eyes of many.

He was popular amongst teachers and parents alike although it was not so much the case with his peers. Out of jealousy and envy, they had isolated him with the excuse that he was hard to approach, surrounding him only when there was something to be gained for them. In truth, he did not mind it. Polite mannerisms and niceties had been ingrained into the core of his being since birth, and using them as tools in a world run by man, he had quite easily forged superficial friendships to avoid the snide criticisms made by the neighbours' venomous gossips.

It was all well until the moment his beloved Shouyo-sensei introduced a silver little devil into their classroom. The child was pitifully weak, yet cautious and fierce. What started out as a perk of curiosity had turned into a caring concern that lasted far into their teenage years. They had bickered and wrestled and argued, but at the end of the day, they had always laughed together with grins spreading wide to the corners of their eyes.

Now the two stands on the battlefield, the sword in his hand had long been unsheathed and his cry of war had long reverberated through the enemy's and the ally's metal plates. He did not falter as he parried the attacks to his shoulder and his stomach; finally, his own weapon connected to the firm, muscled chest of the beast that is collapsing towards him.

He did not and would not try to comprehend the damage he had done, for he had accepted the burden of the sword the moment he gave it to the smooth open palms, trying to cling to his own unyielding belief. He had deemed it necessary to strike with the fire of violence –negotiations and political niceties had become out-dated since his childhood years, his plea for the sake of his teacher had fallen on deaf ears.

Now, he swings the mocking sword in order to protect the country that encompass his world; a world surrounded with precious friends and his beloved teacher.

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**A/N:** Yay... I'm making progress XD


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…**

**Disclaimer: Gintamine ja nai, Gintama da. ;D**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –3**

**Takasugi**

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It did not matter what his parents had wanted of him. It also did not matter as to what the neighbours and their brats would say of him behind his back. He does not possesses Koutarou's academic talent nor his innate born charisma though he believes that no one can beat him at the swords with his own unique sword style that he is so proud of.

It was Shouyo-sensei that had taught him on how to excel in the art of swords; the naïve boy was determined to be on par to the two mischievous boys who had spent a great deal of time together, spending every day covered in dirt and mud, the glimmer of happiness always present upon their faces. For once in his short life, Shinsuke had longed to be a part of a group and he had longed to stand next to them on the battlefield and entrust them both with his life.

In thinking back, he had owed it to the two idiotic friends for the precious memories of happy childhood, also to Shoyo-sensei for the indescribable happiness that he was allowed to experience in his little time in the dojo. He owed Shouyo-sensei more than his sense of gratitude; for the love he had lavished on the days he came back to the dojo covered in bruises on his heart and body, his face masked with a glare of hatred. It was in Shinsuke's nature to fail others' expectations but the existence of his teacher had accepted him for who he is and encouraged him to move forward.

That day his heart had squeezed tightly until it suffocated him, his breathing became more and more shallow and ragged with every passing moment as they took away his beloved teacher. He failed to understand as to the reason why; the answer that he had reached is clutched in the left hand holding the sharp glint of steel. Without so much as an urging from Koutarou, he had gladly picked up the weight of the scabbard and had enclosed the smooth open palms of his friend's on the weapon; an encouragement to regain what they have lost. Though it is in his nature to fail others, this time, he had vowed not to disappoint the teacher whom he had treasured so much.

Charging through the enemy's rank covered in blood and cuts, he has no time to neither hesitate nor think about what he is doing; avoiding the train of thought that leads to the fact that he had made his first kill.

All his mind could think of was to hit, strike, cut, slash, harm, hack and he could only repeat the repetitive motion until he is exhausted; the art and grace of the sword that Sensei had taught him had been replaced with his own style of frenzy. He swung his sword to reclaim the only teacher he had ever treasured, fixing his vision to the moment when he is able to reunite with Shouyo-sensei; the man whom he would sacrifice everything in order to reclaim.

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**A/N: **Yay... I'm on a roll! XD


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…**

**Disclaimer: One gorilla, two gorillas, three gorillas, not gorilla...**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –4**

**Gintoki**

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He wandered in the aftermath of the battlefield, looking for survivors hidden among bloody corpses.

He looked, and looked. Searching through dead bodies for the light tremor of a pulse and the fragile motion of breathing, for the weak voices that cry for families left behind, for a glint of hope.

But it seems that all he could see is screaming faces frozen in time. Each and every gaze of every strangers ingrained into his mind. Faces of friends and faces of enemy, both stared at him with drawing conviction.

He couldn't look away.

Pain and fear are forever etched into their expression, and everything that was a human is now preserved in the slack pound of flesh piling on top of one another, rotten and clawed at by vultures.

The sight, the smell, the silence. It was overbearing.

It was more than hell.

It was a purge.

He saw a rat scurried and a finger twitched under the pile. Alive? Or a muscle reflex? He wouldn't know until he moved the first layer of bodies.

He shoved corpses to his side. One, Two,Three,… he didn't know when he had started the counting. He grabbed the last hand and pulled. The soldier gasped as he came back to life.

'T-Tha-Thank yo-…' the words of gratitude was cut short.

'Shiroyasha!' He pulled his hand away, his eyes filled with indescribable fear. What strength he could muster, he spent on scrabbling away on all fours, scurrying away from the devil behind him.

Gintoki could only chuckle.

_If he has that much energy, he'll be fine for another day._


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…**

**Disclaimer: One face, two faces, three faces, no face...**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –5**

**Katsura**

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He recognized that face from before.

Usually it was smiling, laughing, screaming beside him when the rice was taken away from his tray and eaten up by his friend. There was life in his every expression and that attracted fate to have them sit at the same table for daily morning breakfast.

Well to say the least, he did not know him but he knew of his name well enough.

Miyamoto Tetsu, or Tecchan as others had called him.

His friends said he was a father, a husband, a farmer, a neighbour, and the best comrade that they could ever asked for. He was more than what they could ever describe and he could have been more than what they could ever imagine.

But Katsura cannot say the same because he truly did not know him.

The man was only one of many.

Even so, he can only say this: He knew how the man waved his chopsticks in the air as he talked with gusto, how he saved his favourite food til last but never managed to eat it before it was taken away from him, how he blushed as it took him five sittings until he realized that the man sitting beside him was his section leader; to say the least, his honest expressions were truly alive.

Really, other than for the little things, he did not know him. Not at all.

So it felt more than a little strange that here he is, carving his name unto a stone, placing the memorial on top of the ground filled with more than twenty bodies without names. He erected the Miyamoto Tetsu stone for a nameless grave where men without faces and without expressions were buried. And seriously, for someone he did not know, -and whose face is now unrecognizable-, he really did spent a lot of his precious time.

_But well, at least his screams doesn't ring in the air anymore._

He dusted the stone a few more times before he turned away. In the distance, they are all calling him with voices that he couldn't ignore.

Right. He's going.

He'll be there to lead another battle.


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…**

**Disclaimer: One Amanto, two Amanto, three Amanto, no Gorilla... e-eh...?**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –6**

**Takasugi**

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It's senseless killing. That's all there is to it.

Here and there people are crying in pain and with our limited resources, there is nothing much that we can do for them. Soon, this medical tent will be over-filled with the injured; half-dead soldiers who will barely survive the next confrontation.

'Takasugi-san! Have they tended to your arm? We have to go soon.'

'Ah.'

We left to counter the next wave of violence. To be in the centre of this madness is completely different from the reality back in the tent. Here, insanity prevails over consequences.

To cut or to be cut, that's all there is to it. Those so-called strategies are useless the moment you plunge into that over-arching wave of Amanto. In this battlefield, there is nothing to think about- you only have to kill.

There is no such thing as murder.

'Retreat!' The other side cried while our own soldiers sighed in relief.

What is this? They have obviously overwhelmed us, but they retreated? Did they know that our resources are depleting? Are they waiting for the moment that we drive ourselves into a corner?

_Damn them. _

He stood there to view the situation critically until he took notice of the man lying at his feet.

'H-help...me-...' He coughed blood. Looking at his injury, it is clear that he will not live another minute, not long enough to receive medical attention from the nearest tent.

'I'll help you so close your eyes.' His voice was void of emotion but that was appropriate; because otherwise he will betray himself, giving away what he was about to do.

As the man closed his eyes, he aimed and run his sword through his heart. It was a clean strike and he was dead only a second later.

A hand suddenly pushed him away, roughly flinging him over to another dead body as his bloodied sword clattered on the blood-soiled ground.

It was Gintoki.

The white figure rushed to the dead man and after his initial disappointment, Gintoki glared at him in anger as if to ask what the hell he was doing.

He wouldn't answer even if he had asked.

He wordlessly rose and turned away without so much as a glance. Gintoki can worry about whatever it is that he thinks is right or wrong because truth to be told, such thing does not interest him. All he wanted is to get Sensei back, and in this world of madness, he will achieve it by any means.

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**A/N:** Thank you so much for the review **Zura4eva **and **Yato Rumi**. It was nice to know that you guys liked my portrayal of their Joui days. I hope I didn't disappoint in this chapter (I find Takasugi's character to be the hardest haha).

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed^^


	7. Chapter 7

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…**

**Disclaimer: Gintama is never ever ever, coming back together...- I mean, would be mine...**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –7**

**Gintoki**

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Gintoki walked into the main tent to discover Katsura and Takasugi spoke in low voices; no doubt regarding how they have to replenish the medical and food supply that are depleting fast. The two are standing by the table and did not look up as he entered, and they ignored him as he sits on the chair across with a satisfied sigh.

'I can do it. I'll just take a few Kiheitai members with me and grab it from those low-life Amanto.' Takasugi said vehemently.

Grab? Gintoki thought. More like, they'll raze the Amanto camp into the ground when Takasugi loses his control, and no matter how much they try to save what they can from the Amanto, everything will be enveloped by the fire.

Such is the unrestraint fury that Takasugi holds towards the Amanto.

'Just wait, Takasugi. Our own supply should be on its way. We can last for another week if we have to and I will send a message to the Kujo House to make sure that they did have the cart on its' way.' Katsura tried to pacify Takasugi to no avail.

'Are you blind, Zura?' Takasugi's voice rose. 'The Kujos are cowards. They're with us when the tide of battle is in our favour and they will be quick to leave us when they find themselves facing seppuku alongside masterless samurai like us.' Katsura seems as if he was about to speak but just as quickly he decided against it. Takasugi continued, 'Lets face it. They won't send us supply anymore, Zura.'

Katsura's mood turned sombre as he paused to think, and in a concluded loss, his eyes darted to the red eyes lazing across from him, asking a silent opinion. Takasugi saw the glance and boldly challenged him.

'Well? Do you have anything to add, Gintoki?'

The red eyes flicked up quickly and the words fell as quickly from his mouth.

'I'll go with you.'

Takasugi frowned and Katsura's eyes widened in surprise.

Gintoki didn't want to admit it but Takasugi was right. With the tide of battle against them, less and less noble Houses are willing to help them and in this case, their best bet is to steal the supply from the enemy camp. It's two stones with one bird or something similar to that; an expression which Zura used to say a lot.

As a precaution, he'll come with Takasugi to make sure that nothing will be set ablaze; especially not the supply cart.

'You better not be holding me back.' Takasugi scowled and left the tent.

Katsura stayed, and came closer to face Gintoki but the red eyes refused to meet his gaze.

'Are you sure about this? It'll be dangerous.'

Gintoki shrugged. He knew of course, but if Takasugi has the reckless bravery to risk his life, so does he; he has plenty of reckless bravery, he's usually only too lazy to act out his expression of bravado.

'Unless you want to rummage through the pockets of dead men? You can find a lot in a pocket, you know.' Gintoki casually asked with the rise of one of his eyebrows.

Katsura gasped, horrified. He soon realized that Gintoki had made a joke in poor taste and realizing that the silver perm will not answer his serious question, he left soon after with a disappointed shook of his head.

Gintoki was left to prepare for the supply raid with Takasugi which, in no doubt, would be tonight.

As he sharpened his sword, he bitterly smiled. He wondered what Katsura will think if he told him that he did a lot of rummaging throughout his childhood.

_Another gasp, I suppose._

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**A/N: Long time no see^^. Sorry, been busy with moving house so might not update for a while again. Haha... ^_^lll**


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…THIS IS GETTING DARK...**

**Disclaimer: Mwahahaha, I'm butchering Gorilla's work XD**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –8**

**Katsura**

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Katsura crumpled the unfinished letter and tossed it behind him.

He let out a weary sigh as he rubbed his face, leaning over the desk as his long hair made a black curtain covering his side profile. He is exhausted but then again, so is everyone.

Katsura took another parchment, intent on starting another letter to ask for reinforcement. Their position is perilous and the number of enemies marching on the battle-front is overwhelming. The next confrontation will surely decide if their situation is slightly bad or despairingly bad.

_In that case, we need all the help we can get. _Katsura sealed the letter with the wax dripping from his candlelight and set it aside.

He was interrupted by a sudden voice outside his tent, a foot-soldier claiming that a messenger has arrived with news from the Kujo Household.

Katsura received the messenger in his tent, -both sides formally took the position of seiza-, and the messenger's head bowed to acknowledge his lower status. The man was covered in filth and dirt, his disorderly appearance tells him more about the situation of the country more than whatever messages that he carried.

The scruffy messenger told him of what Gintoki and Takasugi have suspected. The Kujo Household have withdrawn from being the Joui's top supporter. There will be no more supplies from the Kujos; no more medical kits, sharp weapons, fresh food. Their main supporter have fled the scene and the Head of the Family have taken measure in concealing his whereabouts.

Katsura betrayed a slight frown on his face. The situation is becoming dire and he fears for the worst. He would have liked for Takasugi and Gintoki to join him in hearing this news, to listen to their opinion as to what their next move should be so they could rectify the situation, but he soon mentally scolded himself. The two samurai are busy in handling the supply problem. There is no need to trouble them with this crushing news.

As the messenger relayed all that he needed to say, Katsura gave him another letter to deliver and he left in haste as Katsura told him of its urgency.

Katsura Koutarou was left alone in his tent, pondering if there is more that he could do but was soon startled out of his reflection by a sudden commotion outside.

He stepped into the chilly night and saw the silhouettes of the supply raid group coming closer. The feeling of relief flooded through him as he recognized the flutter of blood-stained white and purple in the distance. They're all safe, and the cart dragged behind them must be the stolen supply.

The mission was a success.

But no sooner that he had thought so, Gintoki took away his hands from the cart –no longer pushing it- and stalked closer towards Takasugi in anger. He then delivered a hard side-blow that sent Takasugi on the ground, spitting blood, his back slammed on the chopped woods for tonight's campfire. Takasugi rose up quickly, his fist raised as he approached Gintoki and delivered his own hard blow to the silver-perm's right cheek; the both of them involved in an all-out brawl.

Katsura hurried to separate the two, restraining Gintoki's arms as he clutched his chest and Takasugi on the other side, was restrained by other Kiheitai members. Everyone was on the ground, waiting for calm to settle. The rustle of trees were the only sound in the camp as everyone held their breath.

Takasugi stood and wiped the blood from his split lip. He glared at Gintoki and turned away as he headed towards his own tent.

Katsura looked at Gintoki, his eyes searching the angry red eyes as to what had happened.

Gintoki looked away. His gaze fell on the supply cart that they had brought back.

Looking closely, Katsura noticed that there is more to the cart than mere supplies. Blood slowly spilled from the side of the wooden cart, cotton fabrics dyed in red fluttered in the cold breeze, and lifeless arms and fingers peeked from the gaps of the cart.

He gasped in horror.

Such act of monstrous atrocity, who could perform it?

The cart was filled with dead bodies of small children.

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**A/N:** What have I done!? *horrified* I didn't plan making this fic to be so dark...

*shrugs* oh well. It's tagged Tragedy anyway :P

Seiza: the Japanese sitting position where you sit on your legs until they feel numb and pins-and-needles won't leave you for another hour.


	9. Chapter 9

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…THIS IS GETTING DARK...**

**Disclaimer: Do I have to do this? You all know I'm no gorilla.**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –9**

**Takasugi**

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The box filled with writing brushes clattered to the floor, the ink bottle inside it spilled with a violent splatter on the ground.

It was not Takasugi's fault, and he didn't want things to turn out this way either. Everything that had happened was out of his control but he knew that Gintoki would never accept such an excuse.

Takasugi paced inside his tent, running out of things to throw in his fit of anger. He stepped through the broken pieces and the stain, and at last he settled himself on the chair beside his table.

He's not heartless.

That's the only fact that Takasugi can say without hesitation. Regardless as to what others had said about him, he _does_ feel the weight of conscience, tugging mercilessly at the strings of his heart's compassion, but there is one thing that differentiates him from Gintoki- he can ignore the tugs like an itch, and he could do what Gintoki could not.

Takasugi would only save those whom he deemed as precious to him.

Katsura came into the tent to find Takasugi's gaze already on him. His hand was fisted on the table, his jaw clenched, and his fury still yet to subside.

'What happened? Katsura asked as he approached him softly. 'Gintoki wouldn't say'. He added, before Takasugi could pass him on to Gintoki.

Takasugi gritted his teeth, unsure whether he should be the one to tell but he soon reluctantly yielded.

'We found their camp easily enough.' Takasugi began. 'There was a celebration of some sort happening in the camp and laughter and chatter echoed everywhere. They were probably celebrating the number of enemies they've slaughtered, I'm sure.' His voice was cold and the fist on the table tightened until nails dug into the callous skin of his palm.

Katsura settled himself on another wooden chair as he listened. Takasugi continued, 'It was all going well. The Amanto were already distracted and so all that we had to do was sneak in, find the supplies, grab it, and run for it without being found. But that permy bastard…'

Takasugi's voice dropped. Katsura waited until he was ready to continue again. He knew, whatever it is that Takasugi will say next is a truth so horrific, it shouldn't exist anywhere else but in a nightmare. Katsura tried to prepare his heart but he doesn't know if it is enough.

Takasugi took a deep breath to calm himself and picked up his trail. 'That permy bastard went off on his own. He saw a boy in the camp, he said, and then just like that, he took off! And that's when we were about to head back with the supplies too!' Takasugi's voice rose with rage that intensifies with every words.

'The bastard did as he liked, got discovered because he did as he liked and he ruined the entire mission!' Takasugi's eyes once again blazed.

The two fell silent; Takasugi in silent anger and Katsura in quiet contemplation.

'But-… surely, you didn't…' Katsura hesitated. '…silence the boy?...'

Takasugi gave him a strange look and he quickly turned his gaze away.

'No. I didn't.'

Katsura sighed in relief although the feeling was fleeting.

'But I might as well have. The children died because of my action.'

Katsura stared at him, waiting for a thorough explanation from Takasugi where he will explain what he meant but his expectation was soon to be disappointed.

Takasugi refused to say anymore and stood up, leaving for the infirmary tent because he needed to attend his arm wound that had once again re-opened, soaking his uniform with the same colour that had dyed the dead children in red. He briskly walked to the outskirt of their camp where the medical tent is, completely ignoring the empty cart that is now missing of children; the pure souls are now sleeping peacefully, free of the cruelty of the world, resting in the bed of soil made by a White Demon.

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**A/N: sorry for the long update! Anyway, next chapter is long and WARNING: It's gonna be dark.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Warning: Dark theme, abuse, death,...**

**Disclaimer: Um, this one is mostly mine (except the obvious appearance of the Joui)**

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**Turning Point**

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**Story of Life -10**

**Shinji**

Here is written a true account free of any bias, presented as was found in one of my chance findings after the war. This writing is shown to you, readers, for the benefit of discovering the events on what had occurred in the xxx period of the xxx Purge. Herein, is one of my collection of historical artefact that relate closely to the happenings of pitiful children from a distant, isolated war orphanage. What had befallen them is unclear as there was little information to be found in the aftermath and even fewer information on the people involved.

This account of truth is only one form of the many 'truths' and one story of the many life stories. Content deemed as offensive is not of my responsibility, as I am but a messenger that delivers another perspective on truths. Note also that inaccurate use of language was done by no one else but the author. I did not alter nor modify the account in any form. With this knowledge in mind, please continue at your own discretion.

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**An Account of Truth as Written by Kuromori Shinji**

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Day xxx in Hell-hole

So yeah, I found this. It was lying there in a rubble of what used to be a house. I wonder if this made me a bad person because Ma said not to take anything that don't belong to you, but what is the use of a book when no one writes on it?

But that's ok. At least the people in that house was already gone before the fire came. I'm sure Arata Yuki-chan's -I think that's how you read the name on the cover- parents can buy her a new one. I'm sure they'll buy her a prettier book, the one with sakura petals that falls on the edges of the book to make a pretty border or one of those silver rimmed books that flashes in the sunlight; they were really cool, I wish I can have one.

Ah, what am I talking about? This faded-green, half-burnt rustic paper is the most luxurious out of all of my belongings. I don't have the money nor the parents who would buy them for me. I should at least be thankful that that _man_ let me keep this.

There's nothing much that I want to record. I picked this up on a whim and truthfully, I don't even know what I should write about. But that's ok, I figured, because I need to practice the kanji that Ma taught me before I forget, before it disappears from my memory like she is slowly fading now.

There are 7 of us living in this orphanage I called Hell-hole. We are all around the same age although Miyamoto Chika, 6 years old, is the youngest out of all of us. I am somewhere in between all the other 6 kids and that's good. I don't like to be protected just because I'm the youngest; I prefer to protect.

We are all livinggggg-

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Day xxx in Hell-hole

Argh! Damn that bastard to hell! I hope the crows claw at his eyes for eternity in hell! He made me spilled ink on the book and beaten me black and blue for staining the old straw mat with ink. I ended up not finishing yesterday's entry. Where was I?

Right. We are all living in this Hell-hole because our Fathers went off to war and our Mothers are too poor to keep us. I've seen it repeating over and over; Mothers cried at the gate of this Hell-hole, the clinking of the last silver coins handed to the _man_ for our "keeping" expenses, and the children's wail as the Mothers weakly waved goodbye with the promise that they'll come and get us soon.

A bunch of liars, the lot.

I don't say that out loud, of course, or Chika-chan will start crying again and _he _will give me another beating for upsetting her. No thanks.

But it has been 3 years and there's no news of them. All we hear about is how the war keeps going on and on and on. And hearing that reminds me of the day the messenger came to our door and tell us Father had died and died and died. But that's a common story amongst all of us.

The world outside is as bleak as the one in this Hell-hole. That's the reason all of us stayed in this place. It's safer than outside.

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Day xxx in Hell-hole

The bastard kicked Keisuke in the stomach again. I've told _him _to stop because Keisuke still have asthma; his face was so pale and his short gasps was worrying, but I ended up getting a punch on my cheekbone for my trouble. It's bruising quite badly and Chika-chan almost cried again. She really doesn't learn that when she does that, the more we are going to be in trouble and the more beating we will get. Thank goodness I quickly covered her mouth and whispered to her her favourite story. She was quickly distracted then.

Anyway, so it seems that they are cutting off the supply to this war orphanage to spend on the Amanto troops in the South. I don't know if they have discovered that there is a child of the Joui sheltered here or because they are in a desperate situation that they have decided to take away our ration, but the truth don't change and that is, _he _is in a bad mood.

I'm still quite sore from yesterday so I hope he'll be drunk enough tonight to pass out. We really don't want to deal with his bad temper tonight. I have to check on Keisuke and Chika-chan too after this. They've went to bed earlier on but Chika-chan forgot the straw doll that she usually carry around with her. If I don't put it near her, she'll wake me up in the middle of the night to look for it and that's the last thing I need.

Tomorrow will be busy. They should be coming back around about tomorrow afternoon and I have a lot to do before then.

* * *

Day xxx in Hell-hole

They're back. Satoru, Yashiro, Kaji, and Inoue brought back the fruits, fresh fish and rice from the next village. This Hell-hole is like in a middle of nowhere. The river is two nights away from here and the next village is another one night away. Now that they cut off our food supply, we need to gather our own food by ourselves, _he_ said. Kaji said it's ok to rely on his fishing skill. He'll sell the fish in the market and buy the other supplies with the money. I'm not sure how that'll work out though. Even though Kaji is the oldest out of all of us, -not by much-, he is not exactly the brightest. I've heard from Satoru-kun that the area near the river is getting dangerous because soldiers set up camps there for easy water supply. Everywhere is becoming dangerous and getting caught in a possible battlefield is definitely no joke. We may not have parents but we still want to keep our lives.

Inoue shushed us all down. He nudged my bruised rib hard until I yelped and after meeting his glare, I understood, and quickly blew out my candlelight. It seems that _he_ had just walked past our door. The four of us share a room while Yashiro, Keisuke and Chika-chan sleep in the room next door. I'm writing this in the darkness, and there is something scary about scrawling letters on a notebook without seeing what you are writing. I wonder why. Perhaps because this reminds me of Kokkuri-san*? Lets stop thinking about scary things.

* * *

Day xxx in Hell-hole

I think I've just jinxed us all. As soon as I closed the notebook last night, Chika-chan was loudly screaming and screeching and we all ran next door to see _him _lifting her by her hair with one hand, Keisuke winded in the corner of the room and Yashiro's temple bleeding on the tatami mat. Kaji rushed head-on, trying to tackle _him _to the ground so that _he_'ll release his grip but that didn't work. _He _didn't even do so much as to budge from his spot.

I saw Kaji being thrown away as easily as a rag doll, crumpling against the sliding paper door and landed there unmoving. Satoru-kun hurriedly tended to him, trying to wake him up and get a response out of him. Inoue had earlier left to tend to Yashiro's injury and I was torn between helping Keisuke or Chika-chan but I saw that Keisuke was still breathing steadily -though unconscious-, and Chika-chan's desperate crying was calling me much more urgently.

In my right hand was a lighted candle that I had earlier used to light up my room when writing in the dark. On my left hand, I was clutching the ink brush that I had unconsciously brought with me from my room when Chika-chan screamed. I desperately charged at _him _to let her go and stabbed the back of _his _hand with the end of the brush. _He _groaned in pain and let her hair go, dropping her onto the ground as I tried to catch her to soften her landing.

_He _soon recovered and shoved Chika-chan -who was on top of me- to the side, bringing _his _fist to my stomach and temporarily winded me. My vision blurred but _he _didn't pause. I can hear the blood pounded in my ears as my ribs cracked and the punches that _he _threw at me was something I couldn't easily blocked. I flailed and struggled as I was blinded with pain. Everything was fading away and I can see him raising his foot, aiming to kick my side, but I soon blacked out.

Satoru-kun filled me in in the morning. He said that Kaji had woken up in time when he saw _him_ trying to get the last kick onto me and stopped _him _in time. In return, Kaji is now the one with the flower of blue and purple colouring the pale skin on his back. Well, it's only an extra bruise from all the other he had received from getting thrown onto the paper door.

Chika-chan and Keisuke got away with the lightest wounds and Yashiro's injury can be said to be the worst. He hasn't woken up since last night and it seems that he's getting a fever too. Thankfully, _he _is out today so we have free control over the house and no more beating for at least until tonight.

Today was busy spent recovering and arguing. Inoue and Kaji insisted that we should leave this Hell-hole. Satoru and I refused because we know what's there, outside. Besides, Keisuke is a sickly child and Chika-chan is still small. Yashiro's condition is for the worse too. How can we all survive outside?

We'll just have to wait, just bear it until the war is over.

* * *

Day xxx in Hell-hole

_He_'s dead.

You can't believe it? So can't I.

There were loud noises in front of our gate. We have braced ourselves, thinking that _he _is coming home with one of _his _worst mood. But we were wrong.

_He_ was lying there, run through by a sword, a fox Amanto towered over him with several other of its' kind behind him.

Satoru-kun and I stared in shock.

Do you want to die too, the fox said. We were too shocked and too scared to speak, so I only shook my head and I could feel Satoru-kun did the same. The Amanto muttered something about "foolishness" and "whimsical" and "supply", but the first fox Amanto only had to glare at the other two and instantly, they were silent.

The fox turned away and motioned to us to follow him. The voice at the back of my mind tells me that they'll be leading us to their camp. I panicked as to what to do. Reveal to them that there are still another four of us inside the house and we can't leave them there on their own? Will they kill all of us once we tell them? Will they give us a fate worse than what _he _had given us?

But I steeled myself, and refused to move until the leader once again looked back at my still figure.

I told them.

The leader stopped in his track and I can see him thinking, weighing the advantages and disadvantages of us being alive. In a second, he had unsheathed his sword and was bringing it towards me…

…when suddenly Satoru-kun told him about our food supply.

Take whatever we have, he pleaded, just not our lives. He was so desperate, he had kneeled on the ground, his head plastered on the soil and dirt collected under his nails.

The Amanto hesitated and the sword stopped midway in the air before he at last re-sheathed it.

I kept my head because of Satoru-kun's action. I owe my life to him.

It seems that we are not the only one to experience the food shortage. Everything is in short supply during war and even though the Amanto movement is supported by the Bakufu, the distribution of the supply is not wide-spread or even enough. That's what Satoru-kun told me afterwards on his secret assumption.

Luxury item, like sake, is in even shorter supply and it seems that _he _was stupid enough to cheat the Amanto out of their last bottle.

So now I'm in the back of the cart along with the other kids and our food supply. Chika-chan had started crying again as she sobbed that she doesn't want to go. The others are silent; whether in pain or fear, I don't know.

I can only feel joy though. The feeling of happiness to leave the Hell-hole behind even though I know that the moment I leave, Ma will never come to pick me up in this lifetime.

* * *

Day xxx in Amanto Camp

This life isn't too bad.

They clothe us, they feed us and we have our own futons.

They do order us around to run errands for them but it was nothing big. We do the same things that we did in Hell-hole; chop firewood, fetch water, gather berries. It's nothing much different.

They'll beat us if we're too slow when we do our work but it doesn't seem like they intend to kill us. All we have to do is bow our heads and do as we're told.

This life isn't too bad. I'm satisfied as long as we're all alive.

* * *

Day xxx in Amanto Camp

Two days after Yashiro got that head wound, he would sometime have sudden fever. When he couldn't do his part, we have to work twice as hard to fill in his portion. Even Chika-chan had to carry the buckets of water back and forth, splashing most of the content as she sloshed it around, straining.

I just hope that he'll get well soon. I kind of miss seeing him climbing up trees like a real monkey.

* * *

Day xxx in Amanto Camp

Recently, we have to do more and more errands to cover Yashiro's part. Recently, his fever hadn't been subsiding either. My muscles are hurting. I'm too tired to even care about writing neatly anymore.

* * *

Day xxx in Amanto Camp

Today, the second week, Yashiro didn't wake up when I tried to nudge him awake.

We all gathered around his futon. Chika-chan was sobbing uncontrollably as she shook him hard, the rest of us stared at his sleeping figure, too exhausted to even cry. The fox Amanto came into the tent when he couldn't find any of us outside.

The fox ignored the sombre mood and asked Kaji to wash his blood-stained armour. Kaji ignored him.

We were all caught up in our own world of disbelief, it seems that nothing else in the current moment matter. Oh how wrong was I when I thought that they wouldn't possibly kill us! I was lulled into a false sense of security once _he _disappeared.

The fox slashed at Kaji's foot, the pain caught him in quick surprise that he unknowingly let out a blood-curling scream.

The fox shoved his armour at him and left, expecting us to wash it after his violent warning. I gathered up the metal plates to wash it while Inoue and Satoru helped Kaji to bandage the wound. Keisuke tried to calm Chika-chan down, the girl is now on the brink of hysteria.

I left to wash the cold metal.

* * *

Day xxx in Amanto Camp

This is the third time Kaji and Inoue spoke of leaving the camp. Again, Satoru and I are against the idea still for the same reason- it's a scary world out there.

We talked about it until dawn comes and _still_ we couldn't agree.

Keisuke and Chika-chan silently watched us arguing until they both fell asleep.

The next thing we all know, the sun was rising and it is another day for us to do our errands.

* * *

Day xxx in Amanto Camp

Everyone is getting busy to prepare for the celebration. The firewood is stacked neatly in the middle of the camp for tonight's bon fire. Kaji, Inoue and Satoru left to catch fish for tonight's feast, Keisuke and Chika-chan are back in the camp to patch old Amanto clothes so that the soldiers could dress decently tonight, and I went to the forest to pick some berries and mushrooms.

Tonight's full moon was important enough for the Amanto to celebrate in the middle of a war it seems. Kaji and Inoue said that tonight is the best chance for us all to run away when they're busy celebrating.

I'm still unsure. I feel as if the outside world is unkind to war orphans like us. Where would we go? What should we do? How will we survive? The whole country is in turmoil. There is no place for us out there.

* * *

Night xxx in Amanto Camp

I've decided to go through with it, only because I don't want us to be separated.

They are my only family after all, and Kaji was insistent that he'll get away from here even if he'll be the only one.

How can I refuse when he already made up his mind like that?

We decided to split up. Keisuke, Chika-chan and I will hide in the empty cart while Inoue, Kaji and Satoru will steal the horses on the other side of camp. It was decided that I will protect Chika-chan, who couldn't run far because of her small frame, along with Keisuke, who still has his asthma.

It all went well until something moved from behind the shrubs. It was gleaming silver in the moonlight and I was scared, really scared, that our plan was discovered and they've set a demon on us.

But it was a man.

He motioned a finger to his lips, indicating that we shouldn't make a sound. Keisuke and Chika-chan cowered in the back of the cart as I placed myself in front of them, covering them.

The red-eyed man said something. "It's alright", "safe", "go".

I couldn't really comprehend. Ally? Enemy? Ghost? I don't know what he is and that scare me.

At that same exact moment, Kaji and the others also came back with the horses. He saw us being threatened by a white demon and unsheathed the sword that he had stolen earlier. With a cry, he attacked the demon's back only to be overpowered and the sword was knocked away from his grasp.

We gasped as we thought that that was the end of us. The man-demon will kill us all.

But we shouldn't have been worried about the man-demon. The fox Amanto was our true enemy and it seems that the clash of swords had alerted him of our escapade and the presence of an intruder.

Several fox Amanto held the man-demon down, along with Kaji, Inoue and Satoru. Another man appeared from the shrubs and took the fox Amanto leader hostage. He asked for the man-demon and the children to be released.

The Amanto laughed in a chorus and that sent chill down my spine. The fox doesn't care about being held hostage; this is all a game for him. He said something about "samurai", "Joui", "greed". He asked the man clad in purple to choose. The white-demon's lives? Or the children's lives?

The short man unsurprisingly chose the man-demon.

There were shouts and screams and pain, and I don't know what kind of sound have left from my mouth. Everything was turned upside down as more people appeared. Blood and fire mingled, flickering the colour of red towards the moonlight.

We were stuck in a sudden battlefield.

People were dying. Our saviours were dying. My friends who were my family were dying.

There were seven of us, but on that day, only the three of us are left.

* * *

This was the end to the account found washed up in the river after the war. What had befallen the children, no one knows and the only person that could be traced back in their lineage, was Miyamoto Chika, of whom her last name was mentioned. It seems that her only related family had died in the war. A man named Miyamoto Tetsu, in the division of the rebel Katsura Koutarou. Nothing was known about the writer, Kuromori Shinji, although there was a branch of noble family with the name Kuromori, and after the war, they have adopted a different kanji though they have kept the same reading.

I hope this account have enlightened the readers as to what had occurred during the xxx Purge. I could be nothing more than feel glad if the readers will pursue more into this field of study and uncover more to the life story of those involved in the war; taking on the truth from their life stories and learning from them.

* * *

**A/N: Kokkuri-san: Japanese children game where you call upon spirit to answer you. You do this in the dark with a single candlelight.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Warning: Why can't I write something happy?**

**Disclaimer: Sorachi is not my pen name.**

* * *

**Turning Points**

* * *

**Story of Life –11**

**Gintoki**

* * *

He knew he wasn't being fair.

If he was being logical, he could have easily seen that Takasugi was faced with a tough choice.

But he didn't want to be logical.

Takasugi should have saved them. The children. The innocent ones.

What is the use of saving someone like him? Someone with blood on his hands?

Now that the children are dead, he can see his hands stained with a deeper colour of red. Their blood is added onto his hands. No skin of his is left uncovered by crimson; he is nothing more than a red demon.

What should he do? What could he do?

As if it's not enough to see his comrades falling and dying before his eyes, now children too are dead at the cost of his existence.

This sadness...

A deep sense of loss consumed him, more than the usual grief of losing a comrade. The feeling is darker, deeper, sharper. It surged inside him with an overwhelming force.

Surely, it would have been better that they lived and for him to be the one who perished in war?

But he can't. He can't even let himself do that.

Because Sensei called out to him, _Protect everyone for me Gintoki_, he had said.

He has no choice but to live. He owed it to them.

It's not fair to the children, but he only wants to save his family.

He can hear the cries deep in his ears, their faces in the back of his eyelids. The dead are calling him but they all will have to wait.

He doesn't hope that they'll forgive him but the flowers he offered on their grave is a promise; an oath that he will join them when it is all over.

* * *

**A/N: long time no see :) Sorry for the wait. Thank you for reading so far though and I****'m sorry I can't write something happy... haha**


	12. Chapter 12

**Warning: Oh Look! It's not dark this time! It's actually kinda sweet, I have to say!**

**Disclaimer: Mwahahaha, Friendship! Be dazzled by it!**

* * *

**Turning Points**

* * *

**Story of Life –12**

**Katsura**

* * *

He was not there, so he couldn't comprehend the depth of Gintoki's and Takasugi's dismal helplessness.

He saw the gruesome bodies, and smell the rotting corpses, and hear the silent screams. But it is not possible for him to experience what Takasugi experienced and to feel what Gintoki felt.

He could only shallowly empathise.

He tried talking to them, persuading them, convincing them. But that's not enough to close the rift that have formed between the two. Both of them avoided each other's paths and the both of them have refused to communicate.

It infuriated him.

This war is not a game.

Countless lives are depending on their leadership and if there is no communication, -if there is no co-operation-, their battle is surely doomed for defeat. At no cost is this the time for internal strife.

What can he do to re-forge the bond that they had once shared?

The snow had fallen early this winter. The air is crisp and the breeze chilling. Katsura checked the winter storage for more blankets and warm clothes.

He distributed them all, leaving none for himself.

He shivered in the night, and unable to sleep, he lied there pondering about the future. It was then, that he heard a rustle outside his tent.

A spy? An assassin?

Though the sound of the steps are familiar to him.

The intruder opened the flap to the tent and the cold air that sneaks in sent shivers down Katsura's spine. He did not open his eyes.

The intruder left soon after, his footsteps sounded lighter than it was before.

The exhaustion that crept into Katsura's bones prevented him from ambushing the intruder- he had unknowingly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

In the morning, Katsura will find the blue and purple blanket covering him snugly and warmly against the cold night. And he will then give a small smile, without ever realizing that he is an important part to the bond that connects them all.

* * *

**A/N: Yay for an update XD**


	13. Chapter 13

**Warning: Violence, broken friendship, heartache. **

**Disclaimer: Gorilla's current arc is more exciting than mine**

* * *

**Turning Points**

* * *

**Story of Life –13**

**Takasugi**

* * *

He spotted the lonesome figure tucked away underneath the withering sakura tree.

Curled up, the man called the White Demon was watching the frozen river with a book lying open on his lap.

Takasugi was reluctant to approach, but Katsura had insisted that he should call Gintoki for lunch. _Take it as doing me a favour_, he said, and he couldn't quite manage to refuse it.

Hands in his pocket, he approached him from the side and stopped a slight distance away from him. Gintoki did not move and neither did he look up to find out the identity of the shadow falling on his hands.

He stared at the river that is the prisoned water, their faces reflected on the hard, cold ice.

Neither side would initiate the first word. The silence is cruel between them.

Gintoki flipped to the next page of his book.

He shuffled his boots deep into the snow. 'Lunch time, idiot.'

Gintoki did not move nor gave a single reply, and after all that effort he took in fetching the bastard, he's quite offended as to how small his presence was being treated.

His boots dug deeper into the snow. 'So go and get lunch now, stupid perm.'

Gintoki continued to flip the page, completely ignoring what he had said.

In a flash, he lifted his right foot and swung it into the snow, causing Gintoki and the book to be partly covered in the cold grey. Gintoki scrabbled up and shook the book to rid the snow, because the ink used was not water-proof and words run on the page like what the river would have done in summer.

'Stop wasting your time on useless stuff like that and go get lunch.' He turned his back and started making his way back to the tent.

'Takasugi…' Gintoki called.

And as he turned around, he received a punch that he could not avoid. He fell to the ground, the snow soak into the purple cape in an instant.

'How can you say it's useless!' Gintoki shouted. 'The dead won't come back you know. They won't be able to walk in this world again, nor would they be able to write something as trivial as a diary. There's nothing useless about remembering and respecting the lives they have lead.' Gintoki looked at the ground, his gaze directed on the ink running on the pages, fists clenched by his sides.

'They can't live and experience what it's like to be alive.' Looking at him with an expression as if to cry, Gintoki whispered, 'Do you understand, Takasugi?'

He stood up and wiped the blood on his lips. He closed the distance in a second and took a hold on Gintoki's kimono. He pushed him back until the sakura tree met his back roughly.

'Of course I do! How many men do you think I have said goodbye to!' He yelled without reserve to Gintoki's face. 'Do you think I don't care that they won't be able to smile anymore!? Or to laugh, or cry anymore!? Of course I understand that!'

He released the bundled kimono from his grasp and stepped back. 'But what you were doing was a waste of time. Skipping meals, missing strategy meeting, isolating yourself, do you think you're the only one who has burden to carry!?'

He placed his hands into his damp pockets and turned his back.

'Just because they're dead, doesn't mean you have to be dead too.'

He headed back into his tent, and left the forlorn figure in the dead white of the sakura.

In the tent, he changed out of his soaked garment and tossed it onto a chair. His patience is wearing thin.

If Gintoki can worry about the dead to this extent, he should spend his time worrying about the living too. The letter in his hand had said, that Shouyo-sensei was to be moved to Edo from Choshu, the capital city where the Shogun have been passing death sentences for the rebels.

Instead of the dead, Takasugi really dreaded for the living.

* * *

**A/N:** Things are moving. Events progressing and confrontations happening. I didn't think it'll turn out this way but I'm glad they are. See you next time^^


	14. Chapter 14

**Warning: Distraught, heartache.**

**Disclaimer: Don't tell me Gintama is ending coz then I'll cry**

* * *

**Turning Points**

* * *

**Story of Life –14**

**Gintoki**

* * *

_Filthy_, he thought.

He wiped away the stain onto the thigh of his pants.

Like a child, he despondently waited for a voice to call out his name. He has enough of this all-too-familiar feeling of being left behind.

He was always reaching, stretching out his hands to the vast darkness, yet he had always flailed at empty air.

He inspected his callous hands. The lines of his palms tells him of a life amongst corpses, of rummaging for rotting food and the circle of vultures, crying above him.

It also tells him of a life soaked in tearful rain, of unfulfilled promises and helplessness.

In whichever case, the lives engraved on his palms tells the story of his heartbreak. Now the stain of ink and snow on his rough hands prevented him from moving forward because everything that he was afraid of, was etched there.

To move forward is to risk losing everything that he holds dear.

Can he? Would he risk it all for the sake of one man? Is this the right thing to do? Because look at them. Dead children, comrades, citizens, fathers, sons; they all have turned into nothing more than a pile of flesh and blood.

_And this is filthy_, he thought as he furiously scrubbed his palms on the thigh of his pants.

The sound of unfamiliar footsteps came closer to where he was sprawled under the sakura tree.

He looked up as he heard a voice calling out from afar.

'Heeeey. Are you a soldier from Katsura Koutarou's division? What are you doing? Haha, lazing around? Wouldn't it be cold sleeping on the snow? Hahaha.'

He stared at the newcomer with obvious annoyance.

Curly brown hair hidden by a head plate, unkempt blue cloak, boots stained with old blood. The man had seen himself in a few battlefields of his own.

'Who are you?'

'The name's Sakamoto Tatsuma. I'm a new recruit sent from Satsuma. Haha, and you are?'

'Sakata Gintoki.'

The new recruit laughed. 'Well, Sakata-kun, I think you might want to stand up soon before anyone think that you peed your pants. Hahaha. The snow is soaking your pants you know. Hahaha.'

He found the constant laughter to be quite annoying. It irritated him as to how a man can be so cheerful in this kind of situation.

'Come on Sakata-kun. The camp is this way, right?' Sakamoto walked to the North, oblivious to the fact that he came from the opposite direction.

'The other way, stupid.' Gintoki indicated to his left. 'How can you forget the direction you've just came from a second ago? It's a basic survival skill.'

Gintoki frowned as he scrutinized the mass of curls. 'Are you really a soldier sent from the Satsuma clan? Where are the others?'

Katsura did tell him that they are expecting reinforcement but from the look of it, this man cannot be anything but useless in the battlefield.

'Ahahaha, it's embarrassing for me to admit this but while I was patrolling around during the break, I was separated from the main group. They must already be in the camp by now. Haha...' Tatsuma scratched the back of his neck. 'And then when i thought that I was really lost in all this snow, I saw a snow demon* but it turned out to be a grandpa soldier after all. Hahaha...'

He threw a lump of snow towards the idiotic head. 'Who are you calling a grandpa!' And Tatsuma dodged it with an unexpectedly fluid motion.

Gintoki took the diary next to him and stood up as he sighed. 'Alright, I'll show you the way.' And he proceeded to trudge uphill, stepping on the ashen snow with concealed hesitation in his stride.

Suddenly, a ball of snow collided onto his back and crumbled to the ground. The impact caused him to stumble forward but he caught himself in time.

He gave the culprit a mean glare as the man himself stood there and laughed heartily. Tatsuma came closer and a hand found itself rested on Gintoki's shoulder.

'Ahahaha. Thank you for the trouble Gintoki, and lets get along from now on*,' said Tatsuma as the two started to make their way back.

* * *

Notes

*Snow Demon: _Yokai_\- appeared often in folklore like Yuki-onna (the snow woman) that lead man astray into deep snowy mountain.

*'Lets get along from now on: _Yoroshiku _(_Onegaishimasu_ omitted) very casual form of 'Pleased to make your acquaintance'.

**A/N**: I won't update for a while. You can blame my upcoming exams for that. Soz :P


	15. Chapter 15

**Warning: Not as serious, Light-hearted.**

**Disclaimer: Sorachi stole my plot! (To those who read chp 519 of gintama, yes, I'm surprised it's similar in theory to my chp 10 :O)**

* * *

**Turning Points**

* * *

**Story of Life –15**

**Katsura**

* * *

A large hand pulled his own into a rough handshake and the owner laughed a throaty laugh with unmatched joviality.

'We're the troops sent from Satsuma. I'm the division leader, Nagakura Ginpachi. Nice meeting you.' The burly man thumped his back in a familiar manner without any sense of reservation.

'I'm Katsura. Katsura Koutarou, the 3rd division leader and the strategist for this Northern Camp. Glad to have you here.' He smiled as he welcomed the reinforcement soldiers they have long waited for.

Katsura lead them to the campsite, showing Nagakura and the new troops the location of the medical tents, the winter storage, the food cart and the meeting tent for the division leaders.

Nagakura winds his arm around Katsura's neck, -being a foot or so taller than him-, and secretively told the long-haired leader of the movement of Amanto in the South as the two headed towards the meeting tent.

Katsura was surprised as the burly man told him that unrest have begun to brew in the South as the Government began to redirect the distribution of resources towards the Amanto troops. Tax have also been increased as the flow of money have mostly gone to the Amanto for new weaponries. In war, the rich becomes richer whilst the poor dies by the roadside.

Not a single man can take the neutral stance once the country is in turmoil.

Civilians have started to voice their opinions and dissatisfaction in public; some have even shown their clear intention to join the Joui movement. Public dissent is turning the tide in their favour.

As Katsura pulled open the flap to the tent, he found Takasugi poring over the map, laying coins of bronze to one side and silver on another.

Takasugi looked up as unfamiliar footsteps stepped into the tent and the man offered his large stocky hands as he once again introduced himself. Takasugi extended his hand, only to experience the same rough handshake that Katsura had experienced earlier, although he masked his displeasure with less effort.

They then turned the conversation to the location of Amanto camps on the map. Takasugi marked the last sighting of Amanto that Nagakura told them with bronze coins whilst the silver coin lay still over their current location on the map.

The three leaders were so absorbed in their strategic discussion for the next confrontation, that they did not hear the footsteps approaching the tent.

Gintoki opened the flap to the tent only to see his friends and a large man debating heatedly over a location on the map. The three soon quietened as an annoying laughter echoed when the two men entered, breaking the atmosphere.

'Ahahahaha, sorry we're late Pattsuan. He needed to change his pants because he peed on it.' Sakamoto motioned towards Gintoki, a mark of annoyance formed on Gintoki's temple as he clenched his fist to pound the stupid head into the ground.

But he was too late, for Nagakura had already knocked his large fist to meet the brown curls and Sakamoto was instantly sent to the corner of the tent with concussion.

'I told you to address me as Nagakura-san or chief. If you act overly familiar, the soldiers will do the same,' said the burly man whom he himself tended to act overly familiar toward others.

He frowned and turned towards Gintoki. 'So you're the White Demon? I've heard much about you.' Nagakura eyed him critically before he commented, 'I have heard Amanto and men alike tremble in their boots and peed in their pants from hearing your name but alas, I did not expect that the man himself would have such little bladder control.'

'No! That was a misunderstanding! It was just soaked with melted snow!' Gintoki denied the accusation, perhaps a little too vehemently.

Nagakura roared with laughter as he thumped Gintoki's back, bringing the sulking Demon towards the table to join in their latest strategy.

'Take no offense, little Demon. It was just a little teasing.' With an amused smile, Nagakura met the red eyes and thought, _W__hat an interesting bunch. Children that tried hard to act reserved to imitate an adult but are in truth passionate brats in nature. _He shook his head a little. _This war is brutal. It'll crush them or break them into a state without possible repair._

Sakamoto gently tapped the broad back for attention. Nagakura broke his train of thought, turned his head and sees a bright smile accompanied by an annoying echo of laughter that would have competed his own. 'Sorry Chief Pattsuan, but if you stare at Kintoki for too long, you'll bore a hole into him. Hahahaha.'

Several more marks of annoyance appeared on Gintoki's temple and once again, Nagakura have beaten him on delivering a punch to the idiotic mass of brown curls.

Katsura could only softly laugh and Takasugi watches on with an expression of disinterest. For once in a long time, the strained atmosphere in the camp relaxed to one of comfort and warmth.

* * *

**A/N: exam is over and it was hell... I hvn't written for so long that it was hard to make this chp T^T I hope it's not too bad. See you next time.**

*Pattsuan= it's from Ginpachi-san, mumbled to Pacchi-san, mumbled to Pachsan, mumbled to Pattsuan. See how it formed?


	16. Chapter 16

**Warning: Complicated, Tension.**

**Disclaimer: YES FOR THE ANIME COME BACK! XD**

* * *

**Turning Points**

* * *

**Story of Life –16**

**Takasugi**

* * *

He came across to the sight of them, squatting behind the grey tent as they waited in ambush.

He saw the pile of snowballs next to them, and heard the stifled chuckles escaped their lips. The two owners of natural perm hair are ready to launch their snowball attack to the first unlucky passerby to turn the corner.

He did his best to ignore them.

He was planning to cross to the other side, -to record the number of new weapons and supply Ginpachi's troop have brought with them-, and to introduce himself to the new troops to gain their trust and raise their morale, but his steps slowed as he saw Nagakura Ginpachi nearing the targeted corner.

Sakamoto was the first to release the snowball from his hand and flung it towards Ginpachi's face. Gintoki's snowball hit Ginpachi square on the shoulder.

As the snow from the frowning face dropped with a 'flop', the two realized as to the identity of who it was unlucky enough to be in the receiving end of their surprise attack.

Takasugi watched them as the two were grabbed by the collar with a large hand; their faces were shoved into the snow as the burly man laughed jovially.

He could hear the muffled laugh of Sakamoto, the snow caught in his curls and clothes, and he could hear the complaints made by the White Demon, shivering in the cold for he was only wearing a thin layer of clothing.

He felt bitter, watching them playing around so freely.

There was a hand on his shoulder, and a soft voice that took his focus away from them.

He had not realised how absorbed he was in observing them.

'The atmosphere's been different since they came here.' Katsura spoke beside him. His attention was on the three men who are now throwing snow blindly towards each other.

'They shouldn't forget where we are.' Takasugi said, disapproval colouring his tone. 'They shouldn't act so childishly when we can be ambushed for real.'

'It's not good to always be so tense, Takasugi.' Katsura took away his hand from Takasugi's shoulder. 'Lets go join them. This might be the chance for you to get along with Gintoki again.' The long-haired leader moved past him as if to join the game himself.

He swiftly turned his head to face Zura and was about to voice his discontent when rushed footsteps trudging in the snow called out to him.

'Chief! The Amanto are approaching from the West!'

The news from the soldier reverberated to the leaders clearly. They all stood stock-still as they processed the information and just a second later, their gaze hardened.

They are war leaders, veteran soldiers, professional murderers. They know what they should do in preparation to welcome the storm of battle and how to create the opportunities necessary for them to win it. These were hardened men, toughened by the circumstances called war.

But Takasugi noticed, the sad look that the White Demon of war gazed at the swirl of blue-and-white-tinged sky. The sorrowful smile did not escape the corner of his eyes.

* * *

**A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS! **Sorry for the long wait, I've been sick but lookie here. I've pushed myself to give you all a chapter as a Christmas present. (yay). I know it's not much but the next update is definitely a long one^^


	17. Chapter 17

**Warning: Complicated, Tension.**

**Disclaimer: Is it April yet...? :(**

* * *

**Turning Points**

* * *

**Story of Life –17**

**Gintoki**

* * *

'Everyone! Prepare yourselves!' Ginpachi projected his already loud voice towards the troops. 'You can expect them coming towards us from that clearing. So ready your arrows and aim!'

Gintoki glanced in the Northernly direction and saw Takasugi directing his specialized group, the Kiheitai. Their mission this time was to subdue the Amanto from behind, thus cutting off the enemy from reinforcement and blocking their way from possible escape route. They were immersed in their discussion and barely took any notice of the White Demon perching on a seat next to the campfire that had long died out.

Katsura, to his left, was still absorbed in referring to a point in the map. He was surrounded by men in their late thirties. Their distant murmuring most likely involved war strategy and traps; it is all about how they can use the terrain efficiently to reduce the overwhelming number of Amanto before they could reach the clearing.

The other section leaders were busy directing and instructing the gatherings of soldiers. The men who were gravely injured from the last battle were moved to the tent behind camp and those who were still able to work, helped in setting up another medical tent close to the next place of confrontation.

Gintoki, with his sword on his lap, was busy bandaging his left arm and he flexed his muscle as he tried to accustom himself to the firm pressure. Winding and unwinding the white bandage, he listened to the sounds around him.

The voices continued even after his hands had long stopped. Satisfied, he returned his focus to the sword in front of him.

It was given by an important person to protect the important things. The things that he held precious and dear. But the more he swings that sword, the more he was not sure if what he is meant to protect is properly protected or if it is he himself who is slashing and cutting away the most important thing.

He entered the battle to protect his comrades, and so he stabbed countless number of beasts and in this way, took away their capability from taking his comrades' lives. His sword exists to protect, that's what he had thought.

But they had called him Shiroyasha. They had bestowed him the title of a demon and with it came the admiration and the fear. The way he swung his swords, they had said, can be described as an unrefined dance of madness.

The soldiers admired him as an ally from afar but in their hearts, they had feared him as an enemy. Gintoki had once heard them said, 'what is reflected in those those red eyes are not those of human's'.

Even so, those snide remarks are no skin off his back. He had his friends who knew him for what he was and he had the confidence that they alone will stay with him even if others abandon him.

He believed in their bond.

Sakamoto peered over Gintoki's shoulder to see what the silver-perm was contemplatively looking at.

'Let's go Kintoki, it's time.' Sakamoto gave a little smile as Gintoki was snapped out of his reverie. The brown curls left him to further prepare and did not notice that the shoulder of the man he had tapped earlier, had slumped even further.

The bandaged arm hesitated to take the sword.

He had believed in their bond but somewhere in his heart, he can feel how their paths have started to verge.

Gintoki had been regretting the lives lost in this war and had held himself responsible for being unable to save them. If he picks up this sword again, it means another set of weight will pile on his shoulder and his inability to protect them, -his powerlessness-, will once again engulf him into self-loathing at the very end.

He was losing his faith, of the things that he could protect.

Gintoki saw Ginpachi, Sakamoto, Takasugi and Katsura waiting for him from the corner of his eye. This is a reality that he could not turn away from.

They all waited for him, to face the nightmare together. He felt as if they could read the indecision etched in his heart but their expressions encouraged him to move forward with them. With this, he had no choice but to resigned himself to another battle.

He took the scabbard and felt the cold grip on his hand.

They are all have yet to give up in regaining what was taken from them. So he will accompany them just for a little longer, carrying their weight on the both of his shoulders and preserving that bond just a little bit longer.

* * *

A/N: sorry for the long hiatus. I'm getting really busy with extra exams but fear not, I will not abandon anything that's yet to be completed :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Warning: Gruesome, Blood, War.**

**Disclaimer: Yay it's April!**

* * *

**Turning Points**

* * *

**Story of Life - 18**

**Katsura**

Katsura shouted to the troops over the rhythmic thumps of the approaching Amanto footsteps. 'Remember! Push the main force towards the left where it (the ravine) is hidden by snow!'

The men shouted in unison; preparing themselves as they saw the dark specks upon the white in the distance.

They gripped their weapon at the ready, waiting for that moment when the Commander would signal for them to surge together. Katsura searched for the familiar figures of Takasugi and Gintoki, making sure that the two are in their positions and at the ready for the oncoming onslaught.

He saw Takasugi to his left, hidden by the heavy snow behind the trees. His troops were spread out behind a narrow strip that would likely serve as the Amanto's escape route -as calculated-.

Catching his gaze, Takasugi gave a slight nod to signal that he was ready for what is about to come.

Katsura redirected his gaze to Nagakura Ginpachi and Sakamoto in turn. The both of them were easy to find. The burly man and the loud man were assigned to the vital support groups, and they would cover the main troop that will charge through the enemy ranks by lessening the number of Amanto with arrows from afar.

They signalled ready, waiting for Katsura to rely the signal to everyone.

He hesitated.

The one figure that could reassures him on the battlefield, he could not find.

He saw the white coat fluttered moments before. And saw the glint of steel drawn from the scabbard a fraction of a second after. Turning his head here and there, Katsura found the silver snow hair gently wave at last, the man is waiting for the approach of the enemy in this calm before the storm.

Gintoki was at the front of the main force, -amongst the foot soldiers-, where the risk of death that will claim him is high.

People may think it foolhardy to have one of the prominent figures, -the Commander-, to be at the front of the main force, leading the charge. But those people will never know how reassuring it is to gaze at the broad back of the man they called the 'White Demon', watching the pure white coat stained red as the blood of his enemies splatter across it.

Watching him dance across the battlefield inspire admiration and fear, and Katsura could not think less of the soldiers for giving him the name Shiroyasha after witnessing the scene of carnage he created.

The troops surged forward and the arrows are released from their strings as the horn sounded. The snow was smeared with red, and indescribable sounds pierced through his eardrums.

Countless Amanto laid dead, silent. Countless humans cried with their last breath, their final wishes.

He cut the Amanto with a deep thrust to its' chest and as he pulled the sword out a second too late, a swinging axe was brought down to his head,… only to cut down the limbs of the samurai who protected him. He slashed the second Amanto in revenge, and scooped up the man who protected his life.

'Please,… win this war, for us.' The samurai gripped his vest with the last of his strength and that remaining hand dropped with a thud.

Katsura restrained his tears and stood. He was thankful, yet he could not say his gratitude to an empty corpse. He was not the first nor will he be the last to sacrifice his life for the sake of victory.

All he can do is to win, and fulfil his final wish.

He signalled for the support group to join the main force, knowing in the fact that more men will fall in this battlefield.

* * *

**A/N: Woohoo! update before hiatus!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Warning: Gruesome, Blood, War.**

**Disclaimer: So much time, so much inspiration, no energy. No gorilla.**

* * *

**Turning Points**

* * *

**Story of Life - 19**

**Takasugi**

The Amanto have turned the tide of the battle. The number of soldiers in Takasugi's command have steadily decreased even though he had looked for something, anything, a plan or an advantageous environment where he can change the momentum.

He saw a muddy white-red cloak drifting closer.

'What are you doing here?' Takasugi gruffly scolded him.

He suspected that Gintoki had seen how dangerously close it was for the Amanto to take over the narrow escape area.

Somehow, this injured his pride. It was his duty to protect this narrow route for their later escape. What Gintoki had done, he felt as if he was shown to be incompetent at performing his task.

Gintoki shrugged, 'It's a battlefield. I just go to wherever the enemy is.'

'You have your section to command. Don't lose sight of them, stupid perm head.'

An Amanto approached Gintoki, swinging his overly large axe with ease. Gintoki dodged the first blow and tried to parry the second with a little difficulty.

'It's alright. They'll be alright without me.'

_Such confidence_, Takasugi thought. He knew that it is thanks to the trusty Second-in-command, Kurokono Tatsuya, that Gintoki can be so lax in his duty.

The man called Kurokono was generally unnoticeable due to being an average all-rounder who does not shine in the spotlight, but support the people around him. Even so, they found him to be reliable and trustworthy, perfect to counter Gintoki's flaws as a section leader.

Takasugi slashed the Amanto's arm to his right. The katana that was swung at him fell short by centimetres and he stabbed the Amanto's abdomen in return. Red blood splattered towards him.

He covered his eyes in reflex, trying to avoid the foul red but he was given no time to rest as another Amanto aimed for his blind spot.

Gintoki saw and countered the direction of the Amanto's swing. The harsh clang of swords focused Takasugi's aim once again and he dealt the fatal blow.

There was no time to rest as more Amanto came flooding.

Takasugi saw the small number of his troops that are still left standing and quickly glanced over to check if the main force fared any better. He saw that at least one third of their main force are dead and the rest are still fighting with their accumulating injuries. He could not ask for more soldiers to be directed his way as it will weaken the main force.

'Gintoki.' Takasugi called to the man preoccupied with the bull-like Amanto.

The perm head quickly dealt the finishing blow to the Amanto's heart and retreated back-to-back with Takasugi.

'What?' he asked in annoyance. He needed to focus to deal with these bothersome Amanto but Takasugi's demand for his attention let him does anything but that.

'See that stupid-looking leopard in the flashy uniform?' Takasugi directed with a small nod of his head. 'I'm taking him down.'

Gintoki saw the leopard directing the other Amanto and quickly presumed him to be the commander for this section. He understood that Takasugi was asking him to be his back-up; a temporary truce on the bad-blood between them for the sake of a common goal.

Gintoki grinned. 'Alright, let's see who can take him down first.'

Surprised, Takasugi swished his head around to complaint. 'Who said I'm competing with you!? I'm asking you to back me up, dammit!'

But Takasugi was too late, for the silver hair matted-with-red-blood had charged ahead, paving the way towards the leopard Amanto before he could chase him down.

* * *

**A/N**: Writing about war is unexpectedly fun. It's kind of writing the script for a splatter.


	20. Chapter 20

**Warning: Gruesome, blood, war.**

**Disclaimer: Gorilla is getting serious and so am I.**

* * *

**Turning Points**

* * *

**Story of Life – 20**

**Unknowns**

Across the battlefield, soldiers fought for their lives.

Everyone gathered into a living, moving mass and was plunged into the current of blood and grime that stained their faces. The stench of hope and despair intermingled, their presence are at the two-sides of the same coin.

Every second spent fighting in the battle means living in despair or dying in hope. Two vastly different outcomes, yet there is one thing in common:

Each and every one of them looked at the eyes of their enemy, and saw the different faces of tomorrow.

* * *

**Unknown Soldier #1**

The boar-like Amanto charged at him to the side and he flinched in response. He evaded the swing of the monster's club only to be caught by a surprise impact of his tusks.

The Joui man gasped in surprise, the wind was knocked out of him.

In that instance, it flashed by his eyes – the smiles of his daughter and wife as they waved him goodbye, the comforting pat on his back by his best friend, the kiss on the forehead from his mother…

The memories passed by fleetingly.

The boar prepared to swing his club for the final act and he closed his eyes in resignation, leaving everything to fate as he mouthed a silent apology to those who are still waiting for him.

This is the last time that he will breathe upon the earth, and regret seeped in as his last breath was of the scent of blood and death.

As the club was swung towards him, he could hear a sharp, resounding crack.

He peeked when the moment of death passed, and saw the monster stood stock-still above him til it started to slowly collapse towards him.

He scrabbled to the side, evading the heavy thud that the dead boar made.

He was confused for a second, disoriented as to what had happened but he soon saw the flutter of red-blood stained on the white and knew that a monster of a demon had spared him for another tomorrow.

* * *

**Unknown Soldier #2**

The drought that year was the worst in history.

As a farmer, his harvest was his sole living income and desperation crept in as he thought of his ill wife. Hurriedly, his mind searched for a solution when he heard from his neighbour that the noble landlord of his town was looking for someone to represent them in the battlefield.

Of course, those who volunteer will be rewarded handsomely.

He took the deal to replace coward noblemen and stood in this bloody battlefield for many years.

He fired the last of his arrow and saw the lizard-like Amanto fell sideway on its face. From above the terrain, he saw the fluttering of a familiar white cloak, battling to reach the Amanto Commander.

He took in the situation and saw what the Shiroyasha was about to do. Quickly, he threw his short sword and the weapon struck true to its target, a Cobra-like Amanto that was about to attack his division leader's blind spot.

Losing the last of his weapon, he was about to return to the frontline to scavenge swords from fallen soldier but before he could, a battle roar resounded from behind him.

Something pierced through his stomach and his gasp of surprise was overtaken by a cough of pouring blood. He fell forward as the sword was retracted and saw that the Amanto had clearly smirked in victory.

The fatal wound continued to bleed profusely.

He watched the Amanto leaving and felt his life draining slowly out of him.

Not a moment later, he had to smile as a nostalgic face appeared in front of his hazy, glazy eyes. A soft voice, and a soft touch beckoned him.

He knew, that it is time for his wife to come and pick him up.

* * *

**Unknown Soldier #3**

Sometimes, saying sorry is still not enough.

It doesn't matter how deeply and sincerely the apology came from his heart, nothing will be enough to repair the damage that he had done. He thought it was unfortunate, to be born in this era in time.

He took up his sword and grasping it tightly, charged at the monster in front of him with a desperate yell.

He was reckless in his attempt, yet he was always to be the lucky one in avoiding death. There was despair inside of him – to be yearning for death just as he had yearned for the love that will never come true.

A hiss of sword went past him and only lightly nicked the skin on his cheek. He slashed the furry chest and another Amanto went down with a simple thud.

Once again, he survived. The fact seems to have dissatisfied him.

He charged ahead, and saw the Shiroyasha along with the Kiheitai division leader to be surrounded by Lion-like Amanto. With a yell, he charged at the first Lion on his right and that distraction proved to be an advantage for his leaders.

Gintoki and Takasugi also attacked the enemies in front of them and they broke their formation. One by one, the number of Lion-like Amanto rapidly decreased. He made way for the Shiroyasha to lead him and several others to the position of the Amanto Commander.

There was relief when he saw the white-coat-stained-red fluttering across his vision.

For him, Shiroyasha is the embodiment of death.

Even though his division leader had always won his battles, he had determined that wherever the Shiroyasha is present, it is also a sign of where there's an impossibly hard battle to fight. Those who are not qualified to be beside him, will easily die and be tossed away like a used rag.

He was grateful to be under the command of the demon called Shiroyasha. He believed -with all his being- that the Shiroyasha could deliver his yearning for death that is still lurking inside of him.

* * *

**Unknown Soldier #4**

His little brother was patriotic and strong-minded.

_I could never accept those foreign Amanto who are taking advantage of our country's resources_, he said. _I will never let those cold-blooded Amanto do what they want_, he said. _I'm convinced that what the Joui are doing is right so lets join them, brother_, he said.

After all those statements that his little brother had delivered with conviction, he couldn't possibly leave him alone and let his Mother cry. Because after all, his little brother was definitely her favourite.

So here he is, in this battle that he has no interest to be in, fighting for a belief that he's indifferent to – whilst all he wanted was to drag his stupid little brother home so that his Mother would smile.

An Amanto charged at him from the left and he successfully dodged the attack. But another Amanto sneaked behind him and managed to wound him from the back.

Blood seeped through his clothes as the slash across his back gashed red and angry. He thought, 'Ah,… so this is how it's going to end. I couldn't manage to protect him til the end.'

His little brother saw the trouble he was in and saw the swing that was to be the last from the boar-like Amanto.

The little brother lunged forward and the sword fatally penetrated him – he hacked out a fountain of blood. Slowly, the little brother fell into the embrace of the person he protected.

'Please live,… for my sake too.' The soft whisper died instantly.

He was in shock. He could not manage to respond to the next incoming swing by the Amanto when suddenly, a katana blocked the motion of the axe.

'What are you doing in a daze!? Get a hold of yourself! Or do you want to die?'

He looked up to see the purple coat of his section leader to be yelling at him. Ignoring the pain on his back, he once again took his sword and attacked the Amanto who showed an opening while Takasugi occupied the enemy with his own attacks.

He wanted to die but he couldn't. Not after his little brother had said those words as his dying will. He supposed he had to live, bearing the tears that his Mother will shed, unable to repay her for adopting and raising him until now.

* * *

**Unknown Soldier #5**

_Would you do the same as he had done?_

Two days ago, he had sneaked away from the main camp and travelled a certain distance to talk with an important figure. He told him everything that he knew, and in exchange, all he wanted was the confirmation that _they_ are safe.

They laughed, and easily told him that _they_ are safe,.. temporarily.

It all comes down to how useful he can be, and that will determine _their_ lifespans.

He left the tent in the darkness of the night, fearful not for himself but for the people who are important to him. That night of two days ago, sleep did not come easily to him.

Now looking at this battlefield from above, he could see that the Amanto had heeded his counsel. They have split into smaller groups to avoid being driven to the left - where the deep ravine is hidden by the snow. Instead, they have focused their attacks to the further corner, where the Kiheitai are protecting the narrow escape strip.

He saw how the momentum of the battle is currently in favour of the Amanto but he did not let his guard down. The momentum of a battle quickly changes and as soon as he saw the flutter of white and purple coat, charging ahead with a determined purpose, he knew that he had to do something lest the tide of the battle turned.

He took an arrow and notched it to his bow, aiming and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He saw the flutter of white, nearing the Leopard Amanto Commander. He pulled the strings taut when suddenly, he felt a cold, sharp tip, touching his neck.

'You probably shouldn't do that.'

The dangerous sensation sent his heart to beat furiously in fear.

'What are you talking about, division leader Nagakura Ginpachi-san?' He pleaded ignorance, but it did not fool that scrutinising gaze.

'You're about to betray us, were you not? I've received reports of your night encounters with the enemy.' Any hints of joviality he usually paraded was gone at an instant.

'That,… that's not true.' There was desperation in his voice. 'Do,… do you have proof?' His voice trembled as his life and the lives of those who are important to him, are hanging in a precarious balance.

'No, I didn't. But I have been watching you and your conduct since the start of the battle, and finally managed to see through your suspicious behaviour. Just then, you were aiming at Gintoki, were you not?'

He fell silent. If it's like this, he just has to sacrifice everything in this one shot and hoped that the Amanto will keep their part of the bargain.

He released the arrow and Ginpachi was caught by surprise in the act. Ginpachi ran through his sword cleanly, the man died instantly but Ginpachi had failed to prevent the flight of the arrow.

It struck true to a certain back, and the man fell. The soldiers around the division leader shouted in unison.

* * *

**A/N: **thanks for waiting. Here's a long chapter as a present for your patience ;)


	21. Chapter 21

**Warning: War; Death, death everywhere...**

**Disclaimer: Where's the Gorilla nowadays.**

* * *

**Turning Points**

* * *

**Story of Life -21**

**Gintoki**

* * *

He wasn't sure what had just occurred in the last few seconds.

He remembered that he almost reached that stupid-looking purple-robed Amanto commander. As he prepared himself to aim for a decisive kill, a force struck him from the back and he felt himself toppling down from the impact. He heard Takasugi's cry and initially he thought that it was from pain because an arrow had grazed Takasugi's shoulder. But he had soon then realized that it was a repetitive cry of his name as he hit the ground with a thud.

It took a while for him to form the words, _I'm fine_. And for a second he thought that the words had materialized and was heard by those around him, but the truth was that the soldiers had only heard the gurgle of blood reverberated from his mouth.

It was only five days later that Gintoki returned to consciousness and saw the familiar makeshift wardrobe in his tent. He was laid on his stomach; the wound on his back sent jarring pain when he stirred to reposition his body.

There was no one beside him, and ridiculous notions entered his head as he wondered what had happened in the battlefield. For a moment, fear threatened to creep in as he entertained the thought that everyone is now dead. The rustle that came from the tent's opening betrayed his paranoia.

'You've come to, Gintoki.' Zura entered with a basin of hot water and cloth to wipe him down.

'Zura, how long has it been…' He tried to get up but the excruciating pain forced him down. Katsura rushed to stop him.

'Don't do that. You'll reopen the wound,' he scolded. 'It's only been five days and it's not Zura. I'm Katsura.'

'Zura is Zura. Where's Bakasugi?'

Katsura frowned at the insistence of being called the nickname that he wasn't pleased with. 'Outside. He was seen talking with the people managing our weaponries.' He wrung the cloth from the basin. '…and I'm not Zura.'

Gintoki ignored the last remark.

'So how did I get into this state again? Bakasugi stabbed me from the back?'

Katsura looked at him in shock. It seemed as if Gintoki had said something completely preposterous and as if the very notion of Takasugi to backstab did not even occur to him.

The frown between Katsura's brows increased. 'Is that what you believe, Gintoki?'

He shrugged. 'I don't necessarily believe it. Just tell me what happened.'

Katsura stopped his task at wiping Gintoki's back. He put the cloth to the side and fiddled with the fabric of his yukata.

'You're not quite off with the guesswork, I suppose.'

'Then,-' Gintoki started but was not allowed to finished.

'-it wasn't Takasugi. It was one of the soldiers that Nagakura-san had brought with him.'

Gintoki took it in silence.

Katsura was not sure what kind of reaction he had wanted Gintoki to form but nothing was betrayed in his expression.

'You're not going to ask why he targeted you?'

Gintoki glanced up from above his futon. '…out of hatred?'

The tone that he used was joking but the face that had stared at him contradicted the feeling.

'He was blackmailed. His family was taken as hostages by the Amanto and he was forced to spy on our plans for the Amanto.' Katsura stood up from his chair to fetch drinking water for Gintoki. He poured the water into the cup and handed it off to him. 'Nagakura-san said he's sorry for not being able to prevent your injury, Gintoki. Just know, that he was already taken care of.'

Gintoki lifted his head with Katsura's help and sipped the water slowly. '…and his family?'

'…sorry?' Katsura answered, not understanding.

'What about that soldier's family that was taken as hostages?' Gintoki handed the cup back to him.

'…they were discovered by our scouts several kilometres away from here. They were already long killed. I doubt the Amanto had any intention to keep them as live hostages in the first place.' Katsura murmured darkly.

Gintoki fell silent and Katsura detected his change of mood.

'And how is the current situation of the battlefield, Zura? They know our counter-attack strategies, right?'

Katsura sighed in relief that Gintoki did not seem to hung-up on the death of the soldier and his family. He ignored the mispronunciation of his name and answered readily.

'After you lost consciousness, we managed to drive the Amanto back slightly. However, the major factor in pushing back the Amanto was due to the capability of a certain soldier. In his time here, he had managed to create a weapon that might be able to imitate the Amanto's firepower.'

Katsura looked at Gintoki with a hint of excitement.

'We may be able to win with Hiraga Isaburo's help, Gintoki.'

* * *

**A/N: Firstly, let me apologize for my sudden disappearance. The beginning of 2016 hasn't been kind to me and on top of my writer's block, I find that real life kept me busy with disappointments. Thus, forgive me for the lack of updates. I'll try to improve for future updates.**

**Secondly, forgive me if my style of writing is now different. I try to keep it consistent but due to the time gap, I find it slightly hard to remember how I used to do this before. So I hope you would overlook the flaws.**

**Lastly, in case you don't remember, Hiraga Isaburo was Hiraga Gengai's son. Yes, our beloved old inventor's son.**


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